


Hot for Teacher

by theladywinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Classroom Sex, Corporal Punishment, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Sam-Centric, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 08:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6148183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladywinchester/pseuds/theladywinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Van Halen song (which I've listened to a million times and will now never think of the same way again--thanks, Dirty Mind!)</p><p>After a late night celebrating his 18th birthday, Sam falls asleep in class, which is something his teacher simply won't tolerate. Ms. Roth will just have to make sure Sam learns his lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot for Teacher

“Because Shakespeare gives so little in the way of stage directions, there’s a lot left up to interpretation by individual directors…”

Sam barely stifled an enormous yawn as he looked down at the worksheet in front of him. He really was trying his best to focus on Ms. Roth. She was one of his favorite teachers ever, and his unconventional childhood meant he had a large pool to choose from. Ms. Roth could bring even the dryest material to life. Her enthusiasm for literature and writing was infectious, and Sam was pretty sure her feedback on his essay went a long way towards his acceptance to Stanford. Definitely not someone to cross, Sam enjoyed keeping himself on her good side and genuinely wanted her to think well of him.

*Doesn’t hurt that she’s young and hot, either* snickered a voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like his brother. Of course, Dean was more than half the reason he was so exhausted today. He had been determined that his little brother celebrate his eighteenth birthday right on schedule, Sam’s protests about Monday nights and having school the next day falling on deaf ears. Dean dragged him to a dive bar that didn’t really do the whole checking IDs thing to partake in cheap beer and cheaper women. Cut to closing time when he’s about two sheets to the wind and ends up staggering the mile back to their motel alone despite Dean’s best efforts to get him to keep the party going with a pair of red-haired twins that kept grabbing his ass all night (spoiler alert: Dean decided to “console” the disappointed women instead of coming home with him). Sam got two steps through the door when his dad conscripted him into helping with research for a new case. The combined efforts of his family led to a quick nap on the ride to Cherry Lawn High being his only rest in the last twenty-four hours. 

*Thank God it’s last period,* he thought to himself. Resting his chin on his hand, Sam forced himself to tune back into what Ms. Roth was saying.

“Remember, you must to refer back to the movies when you write the essay for your blocking assignment, so you actually need to pay attention,” she said with affectionate seriousness.

A chorus of “C’mon, Ms. Roth!” greeted her pronouncement. “But the school year’s almost over,” whined a tall blonde in the front row.

At the arch of one dark eyebrow, silence descended quickly. The petite teacher took in the whole class as she responded, “Key word here being ‘almost,’ Jamie. Let’s keep in mind we all have finals to pass still, yes?” Grabbing a remote from her desk, Ms. Roth started the dvd player before turning off the lights.

Unable to hold back another yawn, Sam mustered as much effort as he could into paying attention while Puck skipped across the screen. But the room was dark and warm, and a gentle spring breeze from the open window behind him played along his neck just the right way. His blinks got progressively longer until finally, sleep claimed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sam?”

The voice floated through his head, barely registering. “Five more minutes, Dean,” he mumbled reflexively. *Stupid brothers…*

“Samuel Winchester.”

Enough of his brain was awake now that Sam processed the decidedly feminine register of the speaker this time. That’s not Dean. He groaned inwardly, his cheeks heating in embarrassment as he opened his eyes and lifted his head from where it had been pillowed on his arms.

The classroom was empty save for him and a very unamused Ms. Roth. That disapproving eyebrow was arched again and her arms were crossed tightly underneath her chest, fingertips of one hand drumming impatiently on the bicep of the opposite arm as she leaned against the edge of her desk. “Is there anything on your capture sheet from today? Besides drool, I mean?” Her tone was as hard as her glare.

He may have been at the back of the classroom, but he swore he could feel the heat from her temper. His head dropped in shame. “Ms. Roth, I--”

“Did you or did you not hear me tell the class you needed to pay attention to the movie in order to complete your assignment?”

“I did,” he responded quietly, unable to meet her eyes.

“Are you of the opinion that your admission to Stanford means you no longer need to do any work in my class?”

He lifted his head so fast he felt a pop in his neck. “No! I didn’t mean to disrespect you, Ms. Roth, I really didn’t. I just had a really late night and--”

“Save it, Sam,” she interjected sharply. Pushing herself off the desk, the teacher advanced on him, stopping right in front of his seat. Despite her short stature--with him seated, they were the same height--Sam still felt cowed by the sense of authority that radiated from the curvy brunette. The weight of her disappointment bent his neck and he stared at his lap, where his fingers were already twisting nervously. “You know my rule: If I can’t do it in class, neither can anyone else. That includes handsome Ivy-bound seniors.”

“I know…” *Wait, handsome? What?* Sam jerked his head up, and he could swear that the look in her deep brown eyes wasn’t all disapproval. He thought he could see a hunger there he hadn’t noticed before, and he gulped, shifting uncomfortably as his pulse quickened.

Sighing, Ms. Roth pursed her full, dark red lips and said, “There’s nothing else for it, Sam. You’ll have to be punished.” She turned gracefully and walked back toward her desk. He was so nearly hypnotized by the sway of her hips in the fitted black pencil skirt she was wearing that he almost didn’t see her left hand extend and flip forward, directing him to follow her. “And bring your paper with you.” 

Sam stood, picking up his blank worksheet, and adjusted his worn jeans, furiously fighting down his wayward thoughts so he didn’t pitch a full tent and make the situation worse. One look at the front of the room, however, and Sam barely held back a whimper. She was leaning on the corner of her desk with crossed arms again, and this time he couldn’t help but notice the spectacular view nicely framed by the deep V of the undone buttons of her school-issued red polo shirt. His attention was quickly diverted, however, by the wooden ruler in her hand. *Get your mind out of the gutter, Winchester. There’s no way...* “Ms. Roth?”

“Put the paper down here,” she said, gesturing sharply at a clear space on her desk with a flick of the ruler. Sam did as she asked, then she directed, “Hands on either side.” Confused, he didn’t immediately comply; the woman impatiently tapped the top of her desk with the ruler on either side of his paper and huffed, “I said hands on either side, Sam. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Pulse definitely rising, Sam leaned forward and set his large palms on the warm wood. He watched as she stood and took a few steps closer so that she was to his left and a little behind him. “Is this right?” he managed, licking suddenly dry lips.

A curt nod was his answer as she considered him, tapping the ruler thoughtfully against that alluring mouth. “Since it’s your first offense, I think ten should do it.” Ms. Roth gestured at the paper in front of him, and he looked down. “Count them out loud for me, Sam,” she said firmly.

“Count wha--” Anything else he might have said was choked off as her arm flashed out and the ruler landed across his ass with a loud thwack. Surprise, indignence, shame, and a healthy dose of lust swirled through his body, all vying for dominance as he whipped his head around to look at his teacher. “Ms. Roth! What are you--”

“I said count, Sam. Surely someone acing AP Calculus can do that?” Her tone was acid, but there was a heat to it that sent blood screaming toward his groin.

“One,” he managed to say in a steady voice, surprising himself more than a little. 

“That’s better.” The ruler landed again.

“Two” came out a little breathy, and Sam barely had a chance to recover before the third strike hit home. This time, he felt a tingle of electricity run from his slightly smarting ass, around his hips, and straight to his hardening dick. “Three” was at least half moan, and his control went downhill from there. Six more times Sam felt the stiff wood meet his firm cheeks; six more times he counted, staring directly into Ms. Roth’s eyes while he watched her enjoy him coming undone under her ministrations. The younger Winchester had never thought he’d be into something like this, but the tension coiling more tightly in his abdomen with each successive smack told him otherwise quite clearly.

The ruler struck one last time, and “Ten!” was a scream as Sam came unexpectedly. His knees buckled against the desk and his vision blurred at the intensity of his orgasm. Arms shaking with the effort of getting his body upright, chest heaving with harsh pants, Sam managed to get his legs back under him. He winced at the sticky wetness spreading across the front of his boxers and soaking into his jeans. *How the Hell am I supposed to hide that from Ms. Roth?* he thought, blushing furiously. *Yeah, because it wasn’t already completely obvious you busted a nut in your pants like you’re some thirteen year old virgin* that Dean-like voice responded.

“Good boy, Sam,” Ms. Roth purred, and Sam nearly lost his footing again when he felt her small warm hand rub over his abused backside, alternating between stroking lightly and gripping him tightly. “So good, in fact, I think I’ll give you a chance to earn some extra credit to make up for the work you didn’t do today.” Giving him one final squeeze, the teacher brushed her hand slowly up his back and over his shoulder before pulling Sam upright and turning him to face her. She looked up at him from beneath thick, dark lashes. “Any ideas?”

Still preening from her praise, Sam smiled. “I can think of a few things,” he whispered, closing the distance between them, fitting his lips over hers. The petite woman melted into his arms, putting a hand on the back of his neck to pull him even closer. Sam reached down and grabbed her ass, cupping her cheeks to lift her gently and set her on the desk. She parted her lips and legs for him, and his body responded instinctively to her unspoken invitation. As his tongue slid over hers, he felt her hands tighten on his biceps. Sam tangled one hand in her long brown locks and angled her head to give him access to her neck. He nibbled and licked along the taut olive skin of her throat as he let his free hand drift to her breast.

“For instance,” he murmured into her ear, “I do very well with hands-on activities.” Sam gently kneaded the softness in his palm, running his thumb over her nipple and feeling it harden under his strokes. Her breathing hitched, and he let go of her hair, freeing up that hand to lavish the same attention on her other side. 

“Mmmmm, I agree,” she breathed, her deep brown eyes finding his lighter ones as she arched into him. Slowly working both hands lower, Sam rested them on her rucked-up skirt while he ran his thumbs over the front of her panties, finding them already damp. 

Tightening his grip on her hips, Sam angled her pelvis upward while thrusting his thumbs downward. He watched with satisfaction as her eyes rolled back and a low moan escaped her prettily parted lips. Unable to resist, he reclaimed her lush mouth as he reached under her skirt and, with a twist of his wrist, tore away the skimpy lace standing between him and his goal. He swallowed every one of those intoxicating moans that increased in volume and frequency as Sam’s long fingers stroked inside her wet heat while his thumb circled against her clit. 

Pulling back from their kiss, Sam sank to his knees in front of the desk. “I’ve also been told my oral arguments are more than adequate.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a mischievous smile as he pressed his lips to the inside of her knee. “In fact,” he started, nibbling, licking, and sucking his way up her inner thigh, “I have a reputation as a very cunning linguist.” He moved his thumb out of the way, holding her open as he supported his assertion with a firm pass of his tongue along her soaked slit. Ms. Roth’s high whine indicated her agreement, and Sam hooked her legs over his broad shoulders before setting himself to assaulting her mercilessly with his lips, mouth, and tongue while still working the fingers inside her. He felt her hands weave their way into his hair, twisting her fingers in his longish locks. At each pull against his scalp, Sam moaned into her core, causing vibrations that made his partner clutch at his hair again, a cycle of pleasure that was steadily tightening his jeans. 

He felt her thighs tighten around his neck as Ms. Roth panted, “So good, oh such a good boy, Sam. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’tstopsuchagoodboySamsucha--Sam!” She clenched around his fingers, and Sam looked up to see her head thrown back and her whole body straining as she came. His hand and mouth worked her through the aftershocks, each jerk of her muscles ratcheting up his desire until it nearly overwhelmed him. 

Standing, Sam plunged his tongue inside her mouth just as he had been doing elsewhere; he nearly unloaded in his pants again when he felt her grab two generous handfuls of his ass. He broke away and rested his forehead against hers, both of their breath coming in shallow pants. Sam somehow managed to find enough clarity of thought to speak. “Extra credit achieved?” he asked, his voice rough with his barely-restrained desire.

A wicked smile curved his teacher’s lips. “Almost,” she said, then yanked his hips forward so that their groins were flush. “I think one more...big push ought to finish the job,” she finished, slowly grinding against him. This time it was Sam’s eyes that rolled as he felt her wet heat against his aching cock even through his clothing. Ms. Roth circled her hips a few more times, dragging Sam closer to the edge, before she slid her hands up to his broad chest and shoved him back a few steps. Hopping down, she turned and laid her palms on the desk, mimicking his earlier stance. 

The look she threw over her shoulder at him was all the incentive Sam needed. He had his belt open in record time, and he lifted her skirt and buried himself inside her up to the hilt before his pants hit the ground. Twin moans reverberated in the otherwise still room. 

“God, Sam,” Ms. Roth groaned, “you’re even bigger than I imagined.”

Sam started with shallow thrusts, gripping her narrow waist tightly as he rolled his hips, thrilling at the gasping, broken sounds Ms. Roth started making. “Been thinking extracurricular thoughts about me, Ms. Roth?” 

Back arching, she murmured, “Mmm hmm, nearly every day since you showed up. When you asked to meet privately to work on your essay, I had to lock myself in the staff bathroom and--” Sam bent over her, laying his palms on either side of hers on her desk. A shudder ran through her as the change in his angle had him thrusting right against her sweet spot. Quickly, his movements grew more urgent, pounding faster and harder, spurred on by the constant stream of “Yes, Sam” and “Good boy” that fell from his teacher’s beautiful mouth in a litany of praise. Fingers scrambling on the desktop, Ms. Roth started rocking back into him, meeting his thrusts with enthusiasm as he sent her screaming over the edge again. Inches from his own release, Sam pressed his mouth to the back of her neck, sucking down on the soft skin there. Ms. Roth cried out again and reached over her head to tangle her hand in his sweat-dampened locks. One rough pull was all it took, and Sam’s orgasm washed over him, the throbbing of his cock bringing her off one final time as well.

Exhausted and completely spent, Sam closed his eyes and rested his head gently between Ms. Roth’s shoulder blades while he tried to catch his breath. Her cotton shirt was soft and soothing beneath his cheek. 

“Sam?” Her soft voice floated back to him.

“Mmmmph” was all he had the energy for.

“Samuel Winchester.”

Sam lifted his head, craning his neck around as he blinked sleepily. He was surprised to find that he was not nestled against an extremely pleased Ms. Roth’s back, still buried in her wet heat, both of them thoroughly well-fucked. In reality, he was in his seat at the back of the room, very much alone, a decidedly not-pleased Ms. Roth standing right behind him, her expression indicating he was about to be fucked in an entirely different way.

In fact, the only thing not completely different was the tacky dampness at the front of his jeans. *Great, just great.*

“Is there anything on your capture sheet from today? Besides drool, I mean?” 

Jerking upright, he tried not to think about the last time he “heard” her say that. “Ms. Roth, I--”

“Did you or did you not hear me tell the class you needed to pay attention to the movie in order to complete your assignment?”

“I did,” he responded quietly, unable to meet her eyes for a few reasons this time around.

“Then are you of the opinion that your admission to Stanford makes you somehow special? That you no longer need to do any work in my class?”

He heard some of his classmates snicker. “No, Ms. Roth,” he whispered, his body so hot with embarrassment it was a wonder his clothes weren’t smoldering.

“You all know my rule: If I can’t do it in class, neither can anyone else. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow. You can catch up on what you missed with the Sleeping Beauties from my earlier classes.” The other students laughed again, but Sam barely registered it against her quiet “I’m disappointed in you, Sam.”

The bell rang out shrilly, and Ms. Roth dismissed the class with a wave of her hand. Sam stayed at his desk a few moments longer, so weighed down by his teacher’s disdain that he could hardly move. When they were alone, he found the courage to speak. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Roth. What I did was really disrespectful, and there’s no excuse for it.” Swallowing hard, he finally looked up at her. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Her eyes softened slightly, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease. “You’re a first time offender, Sam, so I’m feeling generous. This happens again…”

“It won’t,” he responded with conviction.

Satisfied with his response, Ms. Roth nodded before turning and walking back to her desk. Relief flooded Sam, and he gathered his things together. He was even able to smile as he walked to the classroom door. “See you tomorrow, Ms. Roth,” he called over his shoulder while stepping into the hallway.

“Oh, and Sam?”

He popped his head back into the room. Ms. Roth was perched on the edge of her chair, long legs crossed, elbow on her desk, chin propped on one delicate hand. Sam could swear her lips were twitching in an effort not to smile. *Is she...is she trying not to laugh at me?* “Yes, Ms. Roth?”

“You talk in your sleep,” she stated simply.

*Fuck. My. Life.* Sam blushed crimson as he nearly ran down the hallway, almost making it to the exit before the echos of her explosive laughter caught up with him.


End file.
